We've Got It
by Monochromatic Pylon
Summary: They are brothers in this, together.   -Kanda, Allen. Can be taken either as gen or pre-slash, depending on how you see it.-


**Disclaimer:** I don't have anything to do with the genesis of Dgrayman nor do I take profit from writing fanfiction.

**Warning(s):** Profanities

**Note(s):**Belated birthday fic for all the way awesome a1y-puff.

::

One look at the terrain and Kanda can already tell you why he thinks this mission is seven different ways of fucked-up. Craggy mountainous ground makes it hard for a swordman like him, who relies on complex footworks, to find purchase. Wet, craggy, mountainous ground makes it even harder.

If one should make a slip, it should be him. By all means, his type is the one with the less advantage here. He has, since long ago, learned that admitting weaknesses does not make him weak. It is simply logic. It is rational to let your comrade cover for you –patches you in the places where you are weak. He has learned that much from Tiedoll, at least.

It's also rational to not put your trust in someone who bears the cursed seal of the underworld in his fucking face the minute said someone shows up in your doorstep.

But he digresses.

The point is, Allen fucking Walker should not be the one who has his gut opened and bled out to the fucking air. He has that stupid ribbon for chrissake –you have that kind of advantage, you use it to find purchase. Kid just _doesn't_know how to put his innocence to best use.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing?" Kanda growls out. He has one arm supporting Allen while the kid put the other arm around Kanda's shoulder to distribute the weight.

"Saved you, asshat," Allen hissed. Every step is an agony to him.

"Fucking good job you did," Kanda retaliates, taking a particularly vicious long stride. He doesn't miss the harsh intake of breath of his cargo at that.

It takes five other strides for Allen to recover from the pain. "You're welcome," he says after regaining enough of his breathing ability.

The rain falls and falls around them endlessly.

::

Finding shelter is easy. Starting a fire, not so much. With most of the stray things in the cave either damp or inflammable, Kanda settles to make do with lending his coat. Allen needs it more than him.

He knows jackshit about first aid –has never had the need for the knowledge himself. What he does know has been drilled into him by the combination of Daysha and Tiedoll pestering -_you don't know when you might need it_, they said, _or maybe one of your team mate may need it!_A bunch of grim fuckers they all are, imagining the worst even when they are safe under the blankets and warm fire.

"Lift your back," Kanda instructs Allen.

The kid, half gone into the haze of sleep and pain and tiredness, obeys placidly by shifting his hips a fraction. His shirt and coat plus Kanda's coat are hanging open, exposing his stomach and chest.

"Higher, bastard," Kanda says again.

This time, Allen makes harder effort. He lifts his back off the ground by mere centimeters.

It is all Kanda needs to slip wet gauze around Allen's stomach. The bleeding hasn't stopped, but it has slowed and Kanda takes that as a good indication. But gut wound should not be treated with half-assed first aid, no matter how shallow it is. Allen needs proper medical attention as soon as possible. But the weather outside the cave is as close as one very wet version of white out if possible –the storm raging outside is a near definition of avalanche. Braving the storm means certain death for Allen if not for him.

"Where did you get the stuff?" Allen stutters out, his coherence canceled by pain and drowsiness.

"I keep them around, just in case," Kanda says. It is more a habit than need to carry medical supplies in his pack, again thanks to his master and comrade.

Allen snorts, weak but somehow still manages to be derisive.

"Shut up," Kanda growls.

::

Kanda shivers slightly. The cool draft that comes from the mouth of the cave, bringing slow freezing death to them has not ceased. The storm has not abated the slightest bit.

Allen snores lightly not far from him and Kanda is telling himself not to worry -although it is a lost battle. He will never admit it, but the ship has sailed long ago. He trusts Allen -sees him as more than just friend. A brother in arms in whom you can trust to guard your life and sees battle together –definitely more than friend. Friends do not readily dies for each other. A brother might. And that is what they are in this, together. It is what Lenalee always talks about, tries to drill into his skull without her knowing how he himself has understood the notion without even her schooling him. Family is felt. It's not something you create –something you fake.

He claps his hand to Allen's shoulder and rocks the kid. "Wake up. Sleeping in this kind of temperature will kill you," he calls.

It takes two more shakes to wake Allen to enough alertness for him to make the kid sits up.

"Whu-?" Allen questions, voice hoarse and teeth chattering.

Kanda never has a fever before, but he has seen people having it. And Allen is showing the tell. The kid's cheeks are flushing hot, but the rest of his body temperature is lower than average.

Kanda has been shivering himself –he knows it means his body temperature is hitting the low, too. But what he feels when he touches Allen's arm is even worse.

He knows what he has to do. He has suspected what he has to do. But it doesn't mean he shows no heavy reluctance.

_This is family_.

::

"Don't sleep, bastard," Kanda dictates for the umpteenth time when Allen's forehead hits the side of Kanda's shoulder again.

"Fuck you," Allen croaks out, what left of his polite persona has been wiped out by misery now.

"Keep talking," Kanda maintains, tone even, because keep talking is good. Keep talking means not falling asleep. It means not careening to death in slumber.

Kanda has lost his wet shirt and helped Allen to lose his. He takes off the two coats from Allen and bundles themselves under them to conserve what body heat they have left between themselves.

It is necessary. It is so he does not lose another family.

Daishya was family and Kanda tries hard not to think about him.

"You owe me thanks," Allen says. "Stupid akuma would've killed you."

"Stupid akuma would've been dead faster if you didn't get in the way. And even if I-" Kanda does not continue that sentence.

_And even if I was injured, I would've been miles better now._

Allen snorts. "You were having hard time standing on wet ground."

_And so were you, but I had the mind to stay put,_Kanda would've liked to say but instead he shakes his head. "This argument is stupid."

"Says one who pesters me to talk," Allen gripes, before conceding Kanda's logic with a nod, "But, yes, we can really use another topic right now."

Kanda doesn't answer him. The Swordman stares ahead into the darkness -out where he knows the mouth of the cave is, although he can make out nothing in the near total black.

"How long have we been here?" Allen asks.

Kanda takes the query into account for a few seconds, predicting the hours-minutes, who knows?-they have spent here.

"I don't know. Might be a few hours," he says honestly.

Allen sighs. "This sucks," he says. "My master and I were once stuck like this, too, when we were in India. The storm of the century, the people there said. But it just had to happen when we were on the road. We found a cave just like this and I had to wake up all night to keep the fire stoked while the bastard slept."

"Should've made you do it."

"Heh. Too bad for you we don't have the necessary equipments."

::

Kanda nods off slightly. His head tilts to the side a fraction before he manages to catch himself.

His shoulder's still pressed to Allen's, skin to skin. Allen's skin does not feel as cold anymore, but he isn't sure. Human temperature is fickle, and even more so when you've spent the last hour huddling under the same cover with the other person.

"Bean sprout," Kanda tests, rolling his shoulders to kink out the stiffness.

Allen is awake. "What?" he groans.

The tone in Allen's voice calls alarm to him. And it occurs to him now, that the side of his body feels wet. Warm. It certainly does not feel like water. It means only one thing.

"You're bleeding again," Kanda lets out, stating the obvious.

::

Braving the storm with an injured man on your back, even when the storm has let off considerably is not by the book. The logical thing to do would be waiting for a rescue team. No use risking yourself in the process to help another.

The rescue team, wearing their finders uniform, with Timcanpy in the lead, intercepts them two hours after Kanda's hike, carrying half-concious Allen on his back.

By that time, Kanda is one shivering wreck who probably needs a toe or two cut off from his feet. But despite the hypothermia, he is back whole and the mission is considered a success.

What is left of their family is intact for another day.

Lenalee bursts into tears when she greets them back at the headquarter's infirmary.

::

Comments will make my day. :)


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